


Assumptions of Risk

by karrenia_rune



Category: X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: M/M, promptfic., sword-training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Star a new member on the team. He is alarmed at Julio's willingness to use a gun, and becomes determined that Julio would be better off with a sword, like a modern day Samurai. Early morning training sessions, Star not holding back just because Julio is human. Julio is annoyed at first, but willing to humor him. Because he lurves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumptions of Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/gifts).



Disclaimer: X-Factor Investigations belongs to Marvel Comics as do the characters that appear here or are mentioned; they are only ‘borrowed’ for the purposes of the story.

“Assumptions of Risk” by karrenia

He had not meant to follow Rictor, it was merely a fact that he seemed to know his movements like he knew the back of his hand. It was simply a measure of how close their relationship had become over the years. Although much had changed, namely now that had become de-powered, much had not.

Shatterstar, not one given much to introspection would not have said that he minded much one way or the other, and as sensitive to Rictor as he was physically, the emotional aspect had always  
more difficult; and he did try. He would not have claimed it was difficult, the man was volatile, mody and guarded; and yet he loved Rictor for all of that and much more.  
So when Rictor got up X-Factor’s office without a word to anyone Shatterstar quite naturally should become alarmed and follow find out where he was going.

He lost track of Rictor around the corner of block of tenement buildings but quickly picked up his trail once more and padded along, near enough to hear the other man mutter to himself in his native Spanish, and then dart into a building with that declared it a shooting range.

In his own mind, Shatterstar wondered if he’d over-stepped his boundaries, but determined to see this through pushed open the door and slipped through. He had never seen a shooting range, projectile weapons of the sort commonly found here were considered obsolete where he came from, Mojoworld had come up with far deadlier and far more wide-ranging weapons, however, as crude as a hand-held gun might be, he grudgingly had to admit they were effective.

On the heels of that also came a rather more alarming one he knew Rictor and he also knew that in the time they had spent on their former X-Force team Rictor had loathed guns, a natural reaction given his families’ history in the gun-running business. A business in which he had helped Rictor dis entangle his family from.

There were others, both male and female even at this early hour practicing their marksmanship, but he ignored them and the eye tracks that he inevitably picked and made his way over to the cubicle in which Rictor was taking aim at the target.  
He wore goggles over his eyes and a padded head-set over his ears. Shatterstar, at first did not know what to say, the lump in his throat seemingly too big to swallow. His emotions could be likened to a whirlpool, and more often than that almost were almost as volatile as Rictor's. He felt angry, hurt, but the anger was foremost.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here!?

Rictor took a deep breath and too a moment to lower the gun to his side where it dangled from his left hand. With his free one he reached up to wipe away the perspiration from his brow. At that moment he glanced up toward the entrance of his cubicle and his eyes widened when he saw Shatterstar. Neither said much of anything for a moment, but Rictor was the first to break the awkward silence. “I think it should be obvious, I’m doing a little target practice.”

“Why?” The answer was a simple one-word question, but it carried unspoken volumes.

“Because, I want to, because I need to feel like a productive member of the team,” Rictor growled, and because it’s none of your damn business.”

“I should think it would be my business,” Shatterstar returned hotly, and without or without that, that contraption, you are still a productive member of the team.”

“I don’t want to talk about this one, and besides my session is almost up,” Rictor sighed and placed the gun back into its holster.

“You never do, but we shall,” Shatterstar evenly replied as he folded his arms across his muscular chest. “In fact, I believe I have hit upon a solution to this impasse.”

Rictor appeared startled as his head snapped back in reaction, and then shuffled his feet on the floor. “ I don’t know, damn it! Madre de Dios! I just don’t know anymore!”

“About what?”

“Let’s not talk about it here,” Rictor muttered as he took off the equipment and placed the gun back on a table made for that purpose. “Let’s head back, before the others start to worry about us.”

“Are you angry with me for following you?”

“No, not really, I mean, I was at first, but I’m over it now,” Rictor replied.  
***

The following morning Rictor was awakened by the swishing and thumping sound of Shatterstar going through the motions of his one-armed push-ups, the sound mercifully dampened a bit by the thick pile of the carpeting. All the same, given how late they had gone to bed, to sleep, and the armed with the knowledge that the other man tended to start these things at the god-awful hour of four in the morning; Rictor groaned. “Madre De Dios!” he muttered aloud and rolled over once more, reaching up to grab his pillow and cover his ears. He closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep.

He enjoyed about twenty minutes of this when he was awakened once more by Shatterstar shaking and shaking him and ordering him gruffly to get up. “Go away!” he muzzily ordered.

The shaking resumed a bit harder than before. “Wake Up!” the other barked in his ear.

“No.”

“This is important, please, Julio, wake up.” I respect your decision not to talk about what happened last night, but I think we should, please, wake up.”

Shatterstar, again, not given much to debating or analyzing his own emotions, nonetheless felt considerable alarm over Julio’s willingness to use a gun, knowing that Julio, since he had learned that one of the reasons Julio’s had run away from his home in Guadalajara, Mexico, unrelated to his newly manifested powers, had been his family’s gun-running business. Not that long ago, he had felt more than just the ties of obligation and friendship to help bring that very same business to a grinding halt as much as possible.

He also know that now that Rictor was de-powered, he’d been for lack of a better term, been on something resembling an emotional rollercoaster, all the same, Shatterstar had also determined that he had should nip this particular problem in the proverbial bud. It could not be allowed to perpetuate any longer.

“Stop shaking me, I’m awake, okay!” Rictor growled.

Shatterstar stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “Very, well, now get up.”

Rictor did not get out of bed so much as he rolled out of bed, darting an irate glare at the other man as he made his way to the bathroom in order to splash a little water on his face before getting into whatever it was so damn urgent that Shatterstar wanted to get off his chest.  
When he came out, Shatterstar grabbed his arm and sort of dragged him down to the door to the corridor and down the steps, and then out to rear exit of X-Factor’s headquarters, all to the tune of Rictor’s grumbling and fuming.

“Okay, you’ve got my undivided attention, what do you want to talk about?” Rictor demanded.  
“This, I, it cannot be allowed to continue.” Shatterstar glanced around, tilting his head to one side as if thinking his next words over before uttering them aloud, the flesh around the eye with the star tattoo puckered with his concentration. “

“I can’t read your mind, Star, would you just spit it out already!”

“Why are you so willing to use a gun?”

“Huh? Look, maybe I should have cleared it with Madrox, but what difference does it make to you?

“It makes every difference!”

“I don’t have my powers anymore! Can’t you understand that? I thought if I had something that I can use in a fight, I at least could make some kind of a difference, or least has some means of self-defense so everyone wouldn’t have to worry about me, if the effing shit hit the fan!”

“You, know, that I would do anything for you, Julio, regardless of whether you had your powers or not,’ Shatterstar replied a bit taken aback by the vehemence in Rictor’s voice, but determined to press on with his original proposition.

“I know, I know, but it eats at me, sometimes taking little nips out of me, and I think I keep it down, but it rears up and says, I’m still here, no matter what you do to keep it away.”

“I. I don’t know what to say,” Shatterstar muttered under his breath. “However, what I wished to say is that is that I have hit upon a way were you can make yourself useful and still make a difference in a fight, all without using a hand gun.”

Rictor took a moment to take several deep breaths in order to calm his racing heartbeat before he replied, interested in spite of the early hour and his own directionless anger. “Oh, what do you have in mind? In the back of his mind he thought. “I know he cares, in his own peculiar way; I guess it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. It just might be insane enough to actually make sense.’

“I propose that we begin a series of early morning training in sword-fighting.”

“Come on! You have gotta be effing kidding me?! Rictor gasped.

“I most assuredly am not,” Shatterstar replied matter-of-factly.

“Why would I agree to do something like that?”

“Because it would help with your general conditioning and mental well, turmoil, and because I think it would beneficial and it would be something we could do together. It would aslo solve the problem with your willingness to use a gun.”

“Let me get this straight,’ Rictor growled. “You have a problem with me using a hand gun, but you think the best alternative is to learn how to fight with swords?”

“Yes.”

“I know you were crazy, but this, this goes to a whole new level of crazy.”

“So, will you do it?”

“Oh, what the hell, I must have hopped aboard the crazy train a long time ago, so, sure, why not. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow morning, I will need to look for a proper sword that would suit you best.”

“Sure, you go ahead and do that. In the meantime, I think I’m going back to bed.”  
***  
The following morning Rictor woke up again at an hour less god-awful than four in the morning to find a parcel on his bed-stand, wrapped in tissue paper. Curious he got up and in order to unwrap it.

Inside he found a gleaming length of a sword with a shiny silver- handled grip. “I should have known.” As he stood over it debating whether or not to pick up it, for its heft and feel at that moment Shatterstar came in and broke him out of his meandering thoughts. “I see you’re up. Good, now I think we should get started, if you could bring that along.”  
Rictor heaved a sigh and picked up the partially unwrapped sword and then followed the other man out of the room, out the door and down the stairs to the first floor. He was determined not to let the curious eye-tracks of his other friends who were now starting their day as well get him side-tracked.

As they went through the kitchen, he waved a casual greeting to Terry where she sat nursing a steaming cup of tea.  
Once outside he waited for Star to make the next move.

“First, you need to learn the basics,” Star replied. “When using a sword, the way you stand, move and hold your weapon is vital in determining how much control you have.”

“Okay, stance is important, just like in baseball, got it.” Rictor nodded encouragingly and said, “Go on.”

"Yes, well,” Star cleared his throat and added. “It also makes a difference in how fast you can move or how soon you will tire. You should stand with feet shoulder width apart, leading foot slightly forward, almost square on to your opponent. You should be relaxed and 'springy,' on the balls of your feet with knees slightly bent.”

“Copy,” Rictor replied with an off-center grin.” Theory, he could handle theory and basics at this point, he had half expected Star to begin to pound him immediately.

“This position is easy to hold and keeps your center of gravity low and central to the ground.” Shatterstar added and then took the sword from Rictor and removed the last of the covering. “Try it.” he suggested as he put the weapon back into Rictor’s hands.

“I’m not sure about this. I mean, what will the others think?”

“Rictor, it is not good to worry over much what others think,” replied Shatterstar.

“I know, I know, but it’s one of those things, you know, that’s easier said than done.” Rictor replied. “This time when he hefted the blade, using his right hand it almost dragged his arm down, but as he shuffled his feet on the ground and got a better grip on the hilt, he finally got the balance where he felt comfortable with it. “How’s this?”

“Good, any decent blade worth its salt should feel like an extension of your arm.”

“Got it, anything else I should know?”

“Yes, Now cut down/forward with the sword. Do not wave your arm and move the entire blade. Use a small movement from the elbow or shoulder to move the center of gravity of the sword (just before the blade meets the hilt). The sword will move in a nice, straight line. To stop the sword, snap your third and fourth fingers onto the grip. You will notice that your elbow will reflexively lock as you do this, making a very effective brake.”

At that moment Shatterstar allowed his own blades to slip out of the sheath that had been built into the sleeves of his floor-length coat.

The newly risen sun gleamed off their polished metal surface. “Are you certain that you have fully comprehended the basics, Julio?”

“I think so,, whoa! Wait a damn sec, what are you doing?”

Shatterstar did not reply this time involved as he was in a swift charge directly at his friend both blades parallel with each other and humming with a buzzing sound that would not have been out of place in a bee hive. More out of protective instinct Rictor lifted his own weapon to stave off the blow that had been aimed for his chest, staggering back a bit from the force of the blocked thrust.

He lifted it and back-pedaled a bit to gain some distance and time to recover, the respite was brief as the taller man came at him almost immediately from another angle, hammering on his sword like a black-smith.

“Hey, when I agreed to this, I didn’t say I knew what I was doing. How about going easy on a newbie, huh?” Rictor found that now that had committed to do this, he wasn’t as morose or angry as he had been, his outlook on the situation had done an almost complete 180 and was more annoyed than anything else.

“No, I perhaps did not make that clear. “I don’t know if you’ll understand this now, but I believe that now we are committed to training you in sword-fighting, that in the long run, if I went ‘easy’ on you now, than I would be doing you a disservice.”

“How’s that again?” Rictor demanded.

“Better harder now than easier, because in a real combat, our opponents will not, how did you put it? Go easy on you.”

“Okay, okay, Madre de Dios. What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?”

“If it’s any measure of reassurance, you do have some natural ability there, that makes up for your lack of experience,”Shatterstar replied, this time offering Rictor his own rather charming but also rather disconcerting devil-may-care grin.

“Come on, Star, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Oh, forget it. If it makes you feel better to pound on me some more, I guess I’m game. The thing of it is that it’ll be hard to explain to the others why I’m black and blue afterwards.”

Shatterstar grinned again, and said, “Indeed, but that’s a matter for another day. Shall we?” And with that the rhythmic pounding of blade on blade resumed, along with the harsh exhale and inhaling of their breathing, and despite his initial doubts about this insane idea, Rictor, actually found that given the sheer amount of concentration involved, it did help keep those other troubles at bay; hell, at this rate, they were almost in sheer retreat.

During a brief lull Rictor paused to sling his sword over his left shoulder in order to free up his hands and bent at the waist and placed them on his knees, taking several deep breaths. “No pain, no gain, huh?’

“Indeed,” Shatterstar replied. “I believe that’s enough for today. We will resume again, tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in a belated response to Tangerine's unfilled request from the 2009-2010 Earth Shatering Holiday Challenge.


End file.
